


Back Door Man

by haylefyre



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: Cheating, Dom!Anders, F/M, magic kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-21
Updated: 2014-04-26
Packaged: 2018-01-20 06:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,718
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1500497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haylefyre/pseuds/haylefyre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders told her their relationship would be a mistake, and she believed him. She settled for Cullen, and Anders thinks she's finally moved on. When they both discover their mistake, Anders is determined to show her what she's been missing, and Hawke is determined to enjoy it.</p><p>f!Hawke/Anders, with background f!Hawke/Cullen. No explicit f!Hawke/Cullen scenes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by a k!meme prompt: "Would be interested in seeing f!Hawke cheat on established LI of your choice with Anders. Perhaps she mistook Anders' self-control for not wanting her, so she settles for another LI. When she realises that she was mistaken, she can't help but give in. Or maybe Anders can no longer deal with seeing her with [LI] and takes matter into his own hands."  
> http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/10749.html?thread=42922493t42922493

Sometimes Anders wondered if she had gotten with _him_ out of spite. Like now for instance, when she had brought him _here_. Here, to their gathering place, to one of the only places in Kirkwall where Anders felt truly safe. Hawke knew -- how could she not know? He had told her as much, once. And yet still, here she was, on the arm of one of _them_ , and she'd brought him _here_.

His Templar armor was shiny and clean, free of dents or scratches or dirt or blood or any signs of ever having been truly used, and made the man stand out in the dingy, reeking pit of a tavern all the more. Anders turned away as they approached, half-heartedly trying hide his disapproval -- his disgust. But when he Templar dared to pull up a chair, to pretend like he belonged with them because he happened to be with Hawke --

"If you'll all excuse me for the night, I've just remembered some pressing work I need to attend to," Anders said curtly, pushing his chair back from the table and pointedly avoiding laying eyes on Hawke.

Others at the table made comments he took no notice of, because he was too busy trying desperately not to cave in when Hawke asked him, "Are you sure you can't stay for just a little while longer?"

No, he insisted, he just had far too much to do and absolutely could not be convinced to stay another moment. He took his leave and rushed out of the Hanged Man before Hawke could make another entreaty that would tempt him to stay and wallow in his misery.

Unfortunately, now that he was alone, he still had nothing left to do but stew over the fact that Hawke was with one of _them_. A Templar, of all people. Why did she have to pick a Templar? He knew it would hurt when she finally found someone else -- how could she _not_ find someone else? This was Hawke he was talking about, and she could have her pick of anyone in Kirkwall. He'd been prepared for her to move on, and he'd been prepared for it to hurt.

But he certainly hadn't been prepared for his replacement to be a bloody _Templar_.

He felt a familiar hatred bubbling up inside him, threatening to break free. He clenched his hands into fists, forced the emotion back down. When he felt in control again, he exhaled heavily and ran his fingers through his hair, tugging it free of its tie. Though he was calmer now, his thoughts were still racing. He sighed again and continued on to Darktown. This was going to be a long, sleepless night.

~~~

The following few days brought too many patients on too little sleep, but on some level, Anders was grateful for the distraction. It prevented him from dwelling too long on painful thoughts, and quieted Justice's chatter in his mind. But it seemed that fate wasn't going to let him remain distracted for long. He had just finished with his last patient for the day and had leaned over his desk to work on his manifesto when a voice he knew all too well called out from the front of the clinic.

His heart used to flutter with excitement when he heard her voice, but today the only feeling in his chest was a quiet dread. He glanced over his shoulder and to his great relief, found she was alone. At least she wasn't cruel enough to bring her pet Templar to his clinic, although that didn't particularly make him any happier to see her. He looked back to the pages in front of him, an easier sight to focus on, and tried to figure out what to say to make her leave as quickly as possible.

"Do you have a moment?" she asked, and this time her voice was directly behind him.

Anders placed his palms on his desk and hunched forward, fighting to not look at her and to keep his voice steady when he replied, "I'm quite busy, Hawke. If you'd like me to follow you around the city on one of your odd errands this evening, I'm afraid I must decline."

"You've been avoiding me." It was an accusation, and one that rang true. Anders sighed and hung his head. She was not going to leave without getting out what she'd come here to say. He knew her well enough by now to be sure of that.

"Yes," he said finally, and turned away from his papers to face her. He leaned his hip against the desk, needing its support if he was really going to have this conversation.

Hawke waited for a moment, as if expecting him to say something more, to explain himself. Eventually, she caved first. "Well? Why have you been avoiding me?"

When he didn't answer immediately, she crossed her arms and shifted her weight to her left foot -- a stance Anders recognized as preparation for a confrontation. The implication bothered him more than he cared to admit.

"Is this about Cullen?"

There it was, he thought. One of them had finally said it and now they would have to talk about it. No wonder she was braced for a fight. He sighed and looked down, fingers tightening around the edge of his desk. He should tell her, and he should tell her now. How he was a fool to keep pushing her away, how he had never felt this strongly about anyone in his life, how it felt like a knife in his heart to see her with another, and how the fact that the other was a Templar only twisted the knife in his chest all the more painfully.

Instead, he said, "How can you stand it?"

"Stand what?"

"He's a Templar, Marian. Or did that fact just pass you by?"

"Don't condescend to me, Anders. I know what he is," she replied firmly, but uncrossed her arms. "But he's not like the rest of them. He --"

Anders snorted in disbelief. "Does he know what _you_ are?"

Hawke opened her mouth to retort, but shut it after another moment. The silence hung heavy with his answer.

"I thought not," he said smugly. "If you really thought he was different, you would've told him."

"I... I'm going to. I'm planning to, I mean. Just not yet. I just --"

"You just have to keep a huge part of yourself secret from the man with whom you're romantically involved because there's a pretty damned good chance he'll chain you up and toss you straight into the Gallows if he ever found out who you really are. Does that about sum up the situation?"

Hawke's jaw hardened. "I wouldn't expect you to understand." She paused and ran her fingers through her short black hair -- an action Anders recognized as her trying to gather her thoughts.

Maker, she wasn't going to confess her love for the Templar, was she? Anders didn't think he'd be able to bear it.

"But I would expect you to be able to talk about what's bothering you instead of avoiding me. You are one of my closest friends, Anders. I had hoped that it would remain that way after... I just..." She ran her fingers through her hair again. "I miss you. I miss your company on my 'odd errands'. I don't want to lose your friendship because of my foolish feelings."

Ah. So there it was. She did have feelings for the Templar. Anders supposed this shouldn't be such a shock to hear -- she'd been seeing him for months, after all. And Hawke was a fickle person. She didn't keep anything around that didn't strike her fancy.

But after all the time he spent telling her to find someone else, he really shouldn't be hurting this much now that she'd finally taken his advice. And she had come here to see him, to make some kind of peace, because she missed him. She still cared for him, if not the way she had before. He didn't want to hurt her, and he didn't want to let her know how much he hurt. So he kept his head high and his face impassive when he told her, "I'm still your friend, Hawke. Just... just don't bring him near me. I don't exactly enjoy seeing Templars around."

Hawke nodded. "Of course," she said quickly. Then, hesitantly, "Would you be up for a trek to the Wounded Coast tomorrow?"

He suppressed the urge to roll his eyes. "As much as I'd love to refuse, I know that you have a predilection for dangerous situations and that your spirit healing abilities are dismal at best."

Hawke beamed at him. "I'll be by bright and early tomorrow. Be ready."

He nodded and watched her go, and felt the ache in his heart grow.

~~~

Three weeks had passed since Hawke confronted Anders in his clinic, and their relationship had regained some of its normalcy. He accompanied her on her dangerous errands, she brought him supplies for the clinic, he taught her a bit of healing magic, she gave him feedback on his manifesto. And in that time, Anders hadn't seen so much as a hint of _him_ , and was much happier for that fact. He could almost pretend he'd imagined the whole affair, and it made his outings with Hawke much easier to bear.

After one such outing, Hawke invited him back to her estate for dinner. It was an offer she’d made many times before -- he assumed she made it to all of their companions -- but an offer he’d always refused. This night, however, she would not take no for an answer. She asked, and asked, and asked, and asked, until finally, she ordered.

"Anders, I'm not letting you go back to Darktown so you can work yourself to exhaustion and give away half your food."

"Alright, alright. I know when to admit defeat,” he sighed.

Hawke grinned and snatched up her apostate’s hand, practically dragging him inside. Anders felt his heart leap into his throat at the contact, and the subsequent plummet when Hawke finally let go. But an evening with Hawke, in her estate, eating warm freshly prepared food was certainly enough to keep his spirits high.

They spent their meal chatting and joking with Leandra, who led a far more interesting life than Anders had previously believed, and Bodahn, who had followed the Hero of Ferelden herself during the Blight and had many a tale to tell of the Warden Commander and her infamous band of misfits. Eventually, Leandra excused herself to her chambers, and Bodahn took his cue to start tidying up the dishes. When Hawke retired to the library, Anders couldn't quite bring himself to part from her company yet, and so happily accepted the invitation to join her.

“I hope you enjoyed your meal?” she asked when they were alone.

"I haven't been this full since Amaranthine."

“You really should let me feed you more often. I’ve got plenty of food here. You’re always welcome to join us for dinner.” Anders smiled, but didn’t reply. They both knew he would never take her up on that offer. He might show up when the Templar was around, and he certainly wasn’t going to risk that.

Hawke didn’t press the issue, and instead plopped down upon the sofa. She patted the seat next to her. “Sit with me.” Anders could deny her nothing, and obliged.

Although, maybe he should have given more thought to that decision. The close proximity to her was not helping to keep his mind clear. The desire to gather her in his arms and beg her to return to him was always hovering in the back of his mind, but now those thoughts -- dangerous thoughts -- were forcing their way to the forefront.

He glanced down at her lips. They were full and red and slightly parted, and he wanted to kiss her so badly it hurt. His eyes met hers again and he saw his own desires mirrored there -- no, _thought_ he saw. He looked away from her, fiddled with the buckles of his coat, tried to think of something else. Because it had been four months since she'd last flirted with him (not that Anders was counting or anything) and she'd been seeing _him_ for most of that time. She must have gotten over whatever attraction she felt for Anders by now. But the way she was looking at him --

“Anders,” she asked, voice breathy and soft, and he clenched his fists to still his nerves. “Do you think lesser of me?”

Anders blinked, stunned for the moment. That had not at all been what he had expected to hear. “What do you mean, Hawke? Why would I think lesser of you?” he asked softly, concerned.

She looked away. “Cullen.”

By the Blight, was that what she thought? That he would be so petty?

“Of course not,” he told her quickly, rushing his words to cease her distress as soon as possible. “I could never think lesser of you, Marian.”

At the sound of her given name, she fixed her eyes upon his again -- those beautiful, blue eyes -- and he saw they were full of doubt.

“I think you could do better,” he said, slowly this time, trying to explain himself. “You’re a wonderful woman, strong, smart, motivated, resourceful, a skilled mage, and you’re beautiful. You could have your pick of anyone in the city, in the Free Marches. You deserve better than someone who would lock you away for simply being who you are.”

She turned away again, and Anders feared he’d upset her even more. She looked sad, and her voice was weak when she finally spoke. “You don’t know him.”

“I knew him in Ferelden,” Anders scoffed. “He was in training the last time I escaped from the Circle. He was a bumbling fool then, and the only difference now seems to be that he’s found himself a more powerful position to fumble around in.”

“Why do you hate him so?” Her voice sounded stronger, more sure, and Anders wondered if it was because he was stirring her temper. But he found it difficult to stop now that he’d gotten onto the topic of _him_.

"He's a _Templar_ , Marian."

"Would you still hate him if he weren't?"

Anders scoffed, and before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out. "I'd hate anyone you were with who wasn't me."

His eyes widened when he realized what he'd just admitted, and he opened his mouth to take it back, to clarify somehow to make the confession go away, to say anything really. But then Hawke's eyes met his and something he saw there silenced him completely, and all he could do was stare back at her and wait.

She shifted closer to him, eyes never leaving his. He felt like his heart might beat out of his chest. She was so close, and she was reaching out a hand toward his. "Anders, I --"

"Marian?" a voice rang from the entryway. _His_ voice. Hawke stood quickly and leapt away from Anders as if he were flames and she parchment.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath.

"He has a _key_?" Anders asked bitterly, drawing himself up from the sofa. Hawke sent him a withering look that told him to shut his mouth if he didn't want to actually be flames.

"In the library, darling!" Hawke called, and noticed how Anders flinched.

The clank of armor grew louder, nearer, and then _he_ was in the room with them.

“Oh, am I interrupting something?” the Templar asked when he noticed Anders.

“No, not at all,” Anders said hastily, before Hawke could reply. “I was just leaving.”

He gave a curt nod to Hawke, who only stared back, and whisked out of her estate.

~~~

The walk back to Darktown seemed to Anders colder and darker than usual, and his bed far more lonely. He had expected Hawke to visit him the next day, if not to talk then at least to drag him along for some adventure. But the day came and went with no Hawke to be seen.

The days dragged on. Days of stewing alone, sure that he had finally driven her out of his life completely. Days of trying to convince himself that it was for the best that the most incredible person he'd ever met was now gone from his life for good.

And then one evening, she appeared in his clinic, looking lost, and Anders almost wished she hadn't come at all.

"About the other night," she began.

He cut her off before she could say something they’d both regret. “Hawke, I said something foolish. I didn’t mean to upset you or jeopardize our friendship. I --”

“Anders,” she interrupted. “What did you mean?”

Anders swallowed, throat suddenly dry. “I thought it was obvious.”

“Humor me.”

She stared at him expectantly, and it hit him like an angry bronto: this was the moment. It was now or never, and he’d seen what life would be if he chose never.

“I’ve made a terrible mistake," he gasped desperately. "I thought I was doing what was best, pushing you away. But I couldn't imagine how it would hurt."

Hawke blinked, trying to process his words. "Are you saying --"

"I'm saying, you're the most important person in my life, and I was a fool to turn away from you. I only wish I'd realized sooner, before..." He turned away, afraid of the emotion he was sure was apparent on his face. "My feelings for you are far stronger than I ever wanted to admit. But I don't want this to ruin our friendship, Marian. I know you've moved on, and I don't want to make your life difficult --"

"I haven't."

Anders started blankly, not quite willing to believe that she meant what he thought she did. "You haven't what?" he asked hesitantly.

"Moved on," she said, so softly, he almost believed he imagined it.

The cogs were turning in his mind, but he was still struggling to catch up. "But what about... what about him?"

"I thought you didn't want me," she whispered, voice shaking, and Anders felt his heart shatter. "All this time, I thought --"

"I have never wanted anything more," he told her honestly, and prayed she believed him. She reached out to grasp his hand and he threaded their fingers together, marveling at how perfectly they seemed to fit. She blinked, and he saw her eyes glisten with unshed tears.

He leaned in closer and this time there was no interruption. He reached for her tentatively, and then all of the sudden she was pressed against him, lips crushing his. His hand weaved itself through her hair and she clutched at his shoulders and then she was moaning into his mouth and Maker, he'd never heard anything more beautiful in his life. He ran his hands down her back to settle on her hips and she groaned, moving her hand to the back of his neck to pull him closer still. He ground his hips into hers, and there was that beautiful sound from her lips again. Her hands roamed down his body, clutching at his coat and digging into the skin beneath.

He let one hand drift from her hip up her waist to settle against her breast, and she moved into his touch. And then her fingers were drifting lower, towards the buckles of his coat and the ties of his trousers, and a new wave of want curled in his belly. He wanted nothing more than to guide them to his bed and tear her clothes from her body. To explore her the way he only had in his dreams. But he pushed away from her instead. They couldn't do this here. And some small part of him still wanted to give Hawke a way out if she so desired.

"If your door is open tonight, I will come to you," he gasped against her lips, still breathless from their kiss. "If not --"

"No," she interrupted, and Anders' heart plummeted for a terrible second before he noticed her smirk. She held up a key. "This is to the cellar entrance in Darktown. Come after midnight. I'll be waiting."

Anders was sure he was grinning like a madman, but couldn't find it in him to care as he snatched the key from her hand and pulled her in for another brief, passionate kiss. All too soon, she pulled away, still smirking at him.

"Then if you'll excuse me, Ser Mage, I still have work to do today." She looked down for a moment as she readjusted her messed robes, and when her eyes found his again he had to fight to keep from groaning at the sudden resurgence of _want_ for her. She smiled at him knowingly and he watched her go, positive that the rest of the day could not pass quickly enough.


	2. Part Two

"Bodahn, if Cullen comes around tonight, tell him I've retired early and do not wish for company," Hawke told her manservant, trying to sound nonchalant. 

Bodahn bowed slightly, and assured her he would not allow Cullen nor anyone else to bother his mistress tonight. 

Hawke smiled in thanks, and retreated to her chambers to impatiently pace around the room for the next few hours. Naturally, she anxiously over-thought every aspect of her situation. 

Was she wrong to be doing this? She was still with Cullen. Was she really planning to betray him in this way? It wasn’t too late. She could tell Anders when he got here that she’d changed her mind, that she couldn’t do this. But she thought of how long she’d waited for this, how much she’d desired him, dreamt of him, even after she was with Cullen. This was what she wanted. He was what she wanted. 

And if she was honest with herself, she was not happy with Cullen. He was a nice man, sweet, attentive, good looking, not bad in bed. Cullen seemed a nice enough man, but she couldn't make herself feel for him, and she knew the problem. He wasn't Anders.

Maker, all that time he'd spent warning her, trying to convince her he was dangerous, turning away from her attempts at flirting. She'd assumed he hadn't shared her feelings, and he didn't want to hurt her. She began seeing Cullen in an attempt to move on, but all the while dreamt of Anders. And tonight it seemed her dreams would come true. 

She could leave him tomorrow, she decided. It wouldn't be wrong then, she wouldn't be lying to him. She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair, but her thoughts were interrupted by a light knock on her bedroom door. When she rushed to open it, the man of her dreams was standing there, and she thought he'd never looked so beautiful. He slipped into her room and she locked the door behind him, and a moment later his arms were wrapped around her and his lips were pressed to hers. She melted into his touch, and all worry from moments ago left her mind.

"I've dreamt of this for so long," he gasped between kisses, and she felt her heart flutter in her chest. 

He reached up, wrapped a hand around her throat, and gently pushed against her, forcing her backwards until she hit the door. His hand stayed around her neck, holding her in place while his mouth strayed to her jaw, her ear, the soft spot below where her pulse beat just beneath the skin. His other hand roamed her body, touching, squeezing, undoing the straps of her robes and sliding them down her shoulders to give him access to more of her skin.

Hawke shivered and tried to move her body against his, but he pushed her back, and she was pressed against the door again. His free hand slipped into her smalls to cup her sex, and she groaned and leaned into him. His mouth moved to her throat, and he kissed her as he parted her with his fingers, then bit down hard when he slipped one inside of her. Hawke shivered, and she didn’t know whether she should arch into his touch or flinch away from the pain.

She clutched at his shoulders as he began gently moving his fingers, and she tilted her hips for a better angle. He lips returned to hers and she gasped against him as his fingers found just the right spot. Hawke arched away from the door, leaning into his touch. Then too soon, Anders pulled away.

"Don't pout at me, sweetheart," he told her with a grin when she frowned at him. But her woes were forgotten when he slipped out of his coat and shirt. Hawke followed suit and allowed her robes to fall to the ground, leaving her in nothing but her small clothes, and he in his trousers. Maker, if she thought he was beautiful before...

He smirked at her and guided her to the bed. He sat down on the edge, then pulled her into his lap. She grinned and leaned in for another kiss. His hands settled on her hips and pulled her towards him, grinding her down against him. He groaned at the sensation and repeated the movement, setting up a steady rhythm. Hawke gasped, running her hands down his back, across his chest, touching as much of him as she could reach. Anders leaned down to take one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked hard, nipping at the sensitive skin, and Hawke bit down on a knuckle to keep from crying out.

Anders continued his ministrations, licking and sucking her while she struggled to stay silent, eventually switching to the other breast, until she could take no more.

"Anders," she whispered against his lips.

He nipped at her bottom lip and hummed.

"I want more," she told him, and a new wave of desire shot through him.

"You desire is my command," he replied, voice deep and rough with lust.

She pulled away from him to remove the last of her clothing, and he slipped his trousers off, never taking his eyes from her. She smiled at him, suddenly sheepish, and he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him. She settled in his lap again, only now there were no barriers between them.

Anders reached up to thread his fingers through her hair and pull her in for a deep kiss. She shifted above him and reached down to position him, and slowly lowered herself. They groaned together, and Anders' hand tightened in her hair. For a long moment, she didn't move, enjoying the new sensation of him filling her, stretching her. She tightened around him once, elicited a beautiful moan, and did it again. He smiled against her lips, and moved his hands to her hips to urge her to move.

She lowered her lips to his neck, gripped his shoulders for leverage and slowly lifted herself up, then slowly back down, rolling her hips as she moved. His fingertips dug into her flesh, encouraging her to move faster. But she maintained a slow pace, teasing him, savoring the way his breath caught in his throat and the soft sounds escaping his lips.

Anders endured her torture as long as he could, but it wasn't enough, could never be enough to sate the burn of need in his gut. He decided to take matters into his own hands, and wrapped his arms tightly around his lover to still her movements. She made a small noise of protest, then a louder one when he stood, lifting her and turning around to place her on her back. 

She tried to sit up, but he shoved her back down and she bounced against the soft down of the mattress, and then all at once his hands were under her knees and jerking her legs up and her body towards him and then he was inside her again and, Maker, he felt so good. He pushed her legs down so the tops of her thighs were pressed against her breasts and started thrusting. He was slow at first, but that didn’t mean he was gentle. Every thrust shook her core and hit something so deep inside of her she hadn’t known it was there until this moment. It was the most exquisitely painful and wonderful thing she’d ever felt, and it took all the self-control she had not to scream every time he hit it.

She bit her lip, trying desperately to stifle the moans that were building up in her throat. Anders noticed her efforts, and would not stand for it. "How does it feel, love?" he asked, lips against her ear, breath ragged and hot against her neck.

She grunted softly, catching a moan in her throat at the last moment. That wouldn't do. He snapped his hips forward, harder, and this time she couldn't hold back the sounds.

"That's better," he murmured, kissing down her neck to her collar bone. "I want to hear you."

She moaned again, louder this time, and he kissed her hard. She ran her hands down his back, scrambling for purchase, leaving red lines across his skin.

"Does your Templar make you feel this good?" he growled against her lips.

Hawke whimpered and dug her fingertips into Anders' back.

"Answer me," he demanded, punctuating his sentence with an especially rough thrust.

Hawke groaned and tossed her head from side to side. "No," she gasped.

He threaded fingers through her hair and pulled, baring her throat to him. He bit down, and she moaned again. Anders was sure he'd never tire of the sound.

He moved his hands to the back of her thighs and pulled away to watch her, captivated by the way she writhed beneath him. Hawke opened her eyes and fixed them on his, and Anders almost came undone under her gaze. Hawke moved a hand to her breast, and he watched transfixed as it traveled down her stomach to where their bodies met. Hawke shuttered when her fingers found her clit, and Anders groaned, unable to take his eyes away from the sight of her pleasuring herself while he disappeared into her over and over.

"Are you close, love?" he asked, voice shaky.

"Mm, yes," she gasped, letting her eyes slip closed.

Anders sped up his pace and was rewarded with a slew of gasps and moans from Hawke's lips. His own release was building quickly, but he wanted his lover to finish first.

Hawke's free hand moved to her breasts, squeezing and tweaking her nipples, and her breathing sped, until suddenly she was moaning her release and shaking beneath him. Anders kept his rhythm steady, watching her raptly as she came down. He was at the edge of his own release, and leaned down to kiss her hard. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back, and he came hard, groaning into her mouth.

Anders stilled his hips and pressed his forehead against hers, and when he opened his eyes, she was smiling warmly at him. He kissed down her jaw, down her neck, and moved his arms so she could relax her legs. But she kept her arms wrapped around him, and he stayed clutched to her chest.

“I love you,” he whispered into her throat.

Hawke tightened her arms around him, and breathed in his scent. "And I, you." 

They lay together, limbs entangled, until they drifted off to the Fade.

~~~

Hawke awoke to find a note beside her.

At first, in her drowsy state, she couldn't think why there would be a piece of paper addressed to her on the pillow. Then she remembered the previous night, and who she'd spent it with. A seed of dread planted itself in her heart.

She picked the note up delicately, as if it might cut her if she handled it too roughly. Hawke stared at it for a long moment, fearing what she might find inside. Last night had been everything she'd hoped for and more, but what if he didn't feel the same? She supposed she'd never know unless she read his letter. She took a deep breath, unfolded the paper, and began to read, and discovered happily that her fears were unfounded.

 _My dearest Marian,_ his letter began, and Hawke blushed in the privacy of her room.

_Would that I could stay here with you forever. But I have already been away from the clinic too long, and I have patients that depend on me. I thought of waking you before I left, but you looked so peaceful, I could not bear to disturb you._

_Believe me when I say that this night was the best of my life. You've given me something I'd never dreamt of in the Circle. I dare to hope you feel the same._

_If you have a chance today, visit me in the clinic. I'll be waiting for you._

_A_

Hawke's heart was racing at the thought of seeing him again, and she almost wanted to rush out of the house to see him immediately. But she knew he must have his hands full at the clinic to leave like he had. But with all of the errands that the people of Kirkwall had her taking up, she was sure she'd be able to busy herself enough to smother the urge to rush out to Anders' clinic right this moment.

As she readied herself for the day, she thought of visiting Cullen at his home like she usually did. She could break things off with him, she told herself. She could end things with him today like she'd told herself she would.

But she really didn't want to have that conversation today. Especially if she was paying a visit to Anders later. She still cared for Cullen somewhat, in a small way. She didn't want to hurt him, at least. And she was never very good at discussing sensitive emotional topics.

Tomorrow, she told herself. She would do it tomorrow. Once she'd had time to gather her thoughts and figure out what she was going to say to him.

For now, she had her duties to attend to. The only problem would be keeping her mind off of Anders long enough to remember what those errands were.

~~~

Anders tried to focus on his work, but somehow his thoughts kept drifting back to Hawke. Justice was not pleased, but Anders couldn't bring himself to be bothered by the spirit's distress. He felt he was on a cloud, high above the world, and not even the Warden Commander would have been able to bring him down.

He thought of the note he’d left, and hoped that Hawke wouldn’t be too busy to pay him a visit, or that she hadn’t thought him rude for leaving like he did. But he knew her well, and knew she’d make time to visit. All he had to do now was wait.

The hours passed, and patients came and went, Anders cast quick glances at the door of his clinic when he had a moment to spare, and then finally Anders looked up and smiled.

There was Hawke, standing before him, somehow looking more beautiful than she ever had before. He held his breath, unsure how this meeting would go. But then she smiled at him, warm and full, and his worries melted away.

"Hawke," he greeted happily. "I'm so glad to see you."

"I would have come sooner, but you wouldn't believe the kind of things people bother me with since we returned from the Deep Roads."

Anders smiled, but said nothing. He would believe them. She had made him help her with some of them.

Hawke shifted awkwardly on her feet and glanced around at his patients. "It there... somewhere we can talk?" Anders arched a brow. "Privately?"

"Of course. I have a small room in the back of the clinic." He nodded to his assistant, letting her know he'd just be a moment, and guided Hawke back to his bedroom.

He was somewhat embarrassed once they got there. His cot was small, his blanket ragged, and his floor, like the rest of his clinic, was mostly dust and dirt. It didn't compare much to Hawke's lavish estate, but she didn't seem bothered, and he remembered that she'd spent her first years in Kirkwall in much the same conditions.

He shut the door - or, the scraps of wood that served as a door - and turned to face Hawke, who was fidgeting with her fingers and may have been trying not to smile.

“So,” she said. Anders waited. She fidgeted.

“So?” he prodded.

“Last night,” Hawke said finally, voice breathy. Anders arched a brow and tried to suppress a grin, waiting for her to continue. She tried to form words, but nothing came out quite right. She sighed, then leaned forward, slipped a hand behind Anders’ head, and pulled him down to kiss her.

Instantly, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close and deepening the kiss. One hand drifted low to rest at the small of her back, while the other cradled the back of her head. Hawke groaned softly and pressed her body against his, and fisted her fingers in his hair.

Anders pressed down with the hand on her back, grinding his hips into hers. Hawke moaned louder and pressed her lips harder to his.

When the kiss finally ended, they both pulled away flushed and out of breath. Hawke was gripping his shoulders tightly, and breathing against his neck.

“That good, hm?” he teased, wrapping his arms around her and resting his cheek on her head.

“You have no idea,” she replied, and kissed his neck softly.

“Oh, I think I do.” 

“I’ve wanted this for so long, now that it’s happened, it almost feels unreal.” Her voice was a whisper, a breath against his skin.

“I know the feeling,” he sighed against her hair. “I’ve dreamt of this every night for years. Of all the ways I’d love you, if I ever had the chance.”

They stood still for a moment, silent, embracing. Then Hawke pulled away, looked up at him with that familiar, trouble-causing glint in her eye and that mischievous grin, and said, “Here’s one. Why don’t you show me?”

Anders grinned. “It’d be my pleasure.”

He kissed her, guiding her to his bed and following her down. He moved down her neck, peppering kisses across her skin as he went. Hawke hummed in approval. Anders slowly undid the buckles and straps of her robes, kissing down each new bit of exposed skin. Hawke tangled her fingers in his hair when he settled above her breast, pausing his roaming to lavish attention on her nipple as he continued to undress her. 

Finally her robes parted, leaving her bare to him, and with a wicked grin, he continued his journey down her body. Hawke inhaled sharply when his lips reached the sensitive skin where her thigh met her body, his stubble scratching her sensitive skin just right. Anders relished in the way she tensed with anticipation when his fingers traced their way up her other thigh.

“I’ve dreamt of tasting you more times than I can count,” he sighed, voice shaking with desire. Hawke shifted above him, propping herself up on her elbows and giving him a nervous smile. She reached down to grasp his hand, and he threaded his fingers with hers and smiled back. 

With his free hand, he parted her lower lips, noting how she shuddered at his lightest touch, and squeezed her hand as he bent down to plant a soft kiss on her clit. Hawke squeezed back gently, then hard when Anders licked down, then up, pressing his tongue into her. 

Anders moved his free hand to her thigh, brushing his fingers across her skin. Her contented hum ended in a hoarse moan when Anders trailed his fingers up her stomach and sent a small spark of electricity across his fingertips.

“Maker,” she gasped, and arched into his touch. “So that’s the electricity trick?”

Anders chuckled. “Darling, I haven’t gotten started.”

He pressed his lips back against her, this time focusing all his attention on her clit. He swirled his tongue around her and hummed deep, making her shudder with the vibrations. She gasped again - the sweetest sound - when Anders sucked her between his teeth and flicked his tongue. His fingers danced around her entrance, the light buzz of electricity making her skin itch for more contact.

Then Anders slipped a finger inside of her, and it was too much. A hoarse moan threatened to escape her lips, and she clasped her hand across her mouth to silence it. He moved his finger slowly, and when Hawke’s hips began to move to meet his slow thrusts, he added another.

Hawke arched her back, squeezing Anders’ hand tighter. Anders moved his fingers faster, thrusting harder into her, his tongue never stilling. She chewed her bottom lip, trying and failing to stifle the sounds forcing their way out of her throat at the sensations Anders was eliciting with his tongue and fingers.

"Now, now, sweetheart, you have to keep quiet. Do you want them to hear what I'm doing to you?" He curled his fingers and she gasped. "Do you want them all to know?"

She shook her head and bit her knuckle, forcing herself to breathe slower. No, she most definitely did not want to confirm what everyone in the clinic had probably already guessed. But just when she thought she was regaining control, Anders changed tactics.

He freed his hand from her grasp to settle it across her pelvis as his tongue moved lower. He pressed his tongue into her as his thumb found her clit and sent another spark of electricity buzzing through her. This time the sounds poured from her lips without restraint, but she was too gone to care. She clutched tightly to his shoulders when her orgasm hit, arching into him and away from him and digging her nails into his skin.

He guided her down from her high, holding her shaking body close to his and kissing his way up her body to her neck. 

“Maker, Anders, I love you,” she gasped, clutching his back, still shaking from her release.

He kissed his way up her jaw, and when their lips met again, Hawke could taste herself on his tongue, and felt her desire building again. He slipped his arms underneath her, pressing their bodies close together as he kissed her languidly. Hawke moaned softly and ground her hips down into his. This time it was Anders who gasped and shuddered, his grip around her tightening.

Hawke’s hand drifted down his side, but Anders caught it in his own, and brought it back up to his lips. “There will be plenty of time for that later, love.”

“Later?” Hawke pouted.

“Tonight,” he promised, and kissed her. Hawke melted.

When they finally emerged from his bedroom, Hawke could have sworn one of Anders’ assistants gave her a dirty look. But she couldn’t bring herself to care when Anders kissed her deeply at the door, and whispered promises of what _later_ would entail.


	3. Part Three

_Where the bloody void was Anders?_ Hawke wondered to herself. He should have been here by now. Was he held up by patients? Or had something happened to him on his way out of Darktown? Should she go look for him, or wait for him to arrive? What if he was in trouble? What if he was just busy with patients?

As she was pacing her room, trying to decide what course of action to take, she heard a light knock on her bedroom door. She rushed to open it, but a soft voice stilled her hand on the doorknob.

"Hawke, are you awake?" That wasn't Anders. That was Cullen.

Oh, Maker, what should she do? She'd been avoiding him, and hadn't expected he'd show up after he finished his duties in the Gallows. But Anders was supposed to be arriving soon. Was that why he wasn't here yet? Had he seen Cullen?

"Hawke?" he asked again, and Hawke knew she had to answer. She took a deep breath and pulled open the door.

“Hello, darling,” she greeted, painting on a fake smile and cringing inwardly at the endearment.

“I’ve missed you,” he smiled, and moved to kiss her, but she turned away, and his lips landed safely on her cheek.

"I - I'm sorry, Cullen,” she stammered at the confused (and hurt?) look he gave her. “I really don't feel well tonight. I… I think I’ll just retire early. Alone." Cullen’s face fell.

"Well, is there anything I can do?" he hesitated, as if unsure whether to stay or go.

"No, I don't believe so. Thank you. Good night.” She may have said that a little too curtly. And she may have closed her door a little too hard. But she could always blame it on some vague illness later, she told herself as she leaned against the door and listened to the fading sound of armor on stone floors.

Hawke squeezed her eyes shut, praying that Anders wasn't in the house, that he hadn't seen Cullen, that Cullen hadn't seen him. She didn't know how she'd be able to explain away to Cullen why the known apostate of Dark Town was hiding in her estate in the middle of the night. Or if it would upset Anders that she hadn’t broken things off with Cullen yet.

She heard the faint sound of her front door closing, and a moment later, another soft knock on her bedroom door. She pulled it open and Anders slipped inside and flattened his hand hard against the wood of her door. The door shut with a bang that seemed deafening in the silence of the evening, and Hawke was sure everyone in her estate was now awake, but Anders didn’t seem to notice.

“Anders?” Hawke began nervously. “Are you alright?”

“He was here,” he said blankly.

“I… You saw him?” Silence. “Did he see you?”

“No.”

“Oh. Good.”

The weight of his silence bore down on her, and she struggled to explain. Words came pouring out before she had time to think of what she was saying.

“He was only here a moment. He came to see me, because I’d been avoiding him, but I told him I felt ill and he should leave, and he did try to kiss me, but I didn’t kiss him because I -”

Anders hands came up to cradle her face. His eyes were soft, and he kissed her gently, and she knew he wasn’t angry. When he pulled away, his face was hard, but there was a glint of playfulness in his eyes, and Hawke's heart fluttered faster.

"Marian," he growled, eyes darkening. He leaned in close, lips ghosting across her cheek, and whispered, voice soft, "Is this alright?"

Hawke nodded, not trusting herself to speak.

"Tell me if you want to stop," he breathed, and planted a light kiss her cheek. When he leaned back to look down at her, the tenderness was gone from his features.

His hands moved swiftly down her body, untying the simple binds of her sleeping robes and roughly pulling the material from her body. Hawke shuddered and closed her eyes.

"No. Look at me," he commanded, and she obeyed. His hand slipped under her chin, tilting her head upwards. "He tried to kiss you?"

Hawke nodded.

"You didn't let him?"

She shook her head.

"Why not, I wonder? Is it because your Templar never kisses you like this?" His fingers tightened in her hair and he pulled her forward, crashing lips together and groaning into her mouth. His hand trailed down her spine to squeeze her ass. Hawke pressed her body closer to his, and he pulled her hips forward, grinding against her. She could feel how hard he was through his trousers, and she moaned into their kiss.

He loosened his grip in her hair to move his other hand down to join the first, kneading her flesh as he rocked his hips against her. His hands drifted around her sides and came to a stop at her hips, and he dug his fingers into her flesh there. Hawke groaned, the pain only adding to her excitement. 

"That's it," he gasped, finally ending their kiss, and slid a leg between hers as he pulled her hips to him, grinding her down on his thigh. "Tell me how much you want this."

"I want you," she gasped, lips finding his again. "More than I've wanted anything."

He kissed down her cheek to the sensitive skin where her jaw met her throat, and bit down hard. Hawke caught her scream in her throat before she woke the house, but a choking groan still escaped. She clutched tightly to Anders' arms, her knees feeling like they would give out at any moment. Anders moved his leg from between them and guided her to lay back on the bed, kissing and lapping at the skin he'd bitten while desperately clawing at the buckles of his robes.

Hawke writhed beneath him, eager for more contact, and when he'd divested himself of his meddlesome coat and tunic, she wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close, savoring the feeling of his skin against hers.

Anders' lips met hers again, and Hawke felt like she was floating, dizzy and lightheaded with skin too-sensitive, and Anders seemed to know all the right places to touch. He traced patterns down her sides, across her waist, on her lower back, up to her shoulders. Hawke squirmed, quickly becoming desperate for the one touch he was denying her.

"Anders," she sighed. "Please."

He kissed a line down her collarbone. "Does your Templar ever make you beg?"

She shook her head wildly.

He traced his tongue down her chest, between her breasts. "Would you beg for him if he asked you?"

"No," she whispered, hands tangling in his hair and trying to guide his mouth to a nipple.

"Ah, ah," he reprimanded, pulling away. "Beg me for it."

"Please," she asked, but he only stared down at her. "Please, Anders, I'm begging you. Touch me."

"I have been," he answered, running his fingers down her ribs and resting his hand on her naval. She shifted, bucking upward.

"Touch me _more_ ," she pleaded. "Touch me here." She squeezed her breasts. "Here." She tweaked one nipple between thumb and forefinger. _"Here."_ She slid a hand over his, down her stomach, and pressed her fingers into herself through her clothes.

Anders grinned wickedly, but a moment later his lips were fastened around one nipple and Hawke was arching up into him, trying not to scream.

His hand drifted down her naval and slipped inside her smalls. "Has he touched you since I've had you?" His voice scraped through her ears like gravel, sending a shiver down her spine and a whimper out her lips.

Her mouth opened and closed, trying to form words. But his fingers were moving now, parting her, stopping just short of penetrating her, even as she arched her hips closer to his touch.

"Has he?" he demanded, voice dropping even lower.

"No," she gasped, then moaned as he slipped two fingers inside of her. 

"Good. You're mine now." His free hand drifted up, closing around her throat, squeezing just hard enough to thrill, but not to cut off air. His other hand worked faster, thrusting into her, curling up and prodding the spot that made her scream the loudest. Hawke ran her nails down his back, leaving rough trails of red, and knew he was right. She was his now, completely, body and soul, and he was hers.

He trailed slow, open-mouthed kisses down her body, making her shudder. The movement of his fingers slowed to a stop, and Hawke opened her mouth to protest when suddenly his tongue was on her, prodding her where his fingers entered her, then trailing up to circle around her clit and - _Maker_ , that felt good.

She moaned low in her throat, a deep, raspy sound, and Anders seemed encouraged. He resumed thrusting slowly into her while his mouth lavished attention to her most sensitive spot. Anders trailed his free hand up her body, fingertips becoming colder the further he moved. He reached her breast, kneading flesh and twisting and flicking her nipple with fingers as cold as ice.

Hawke’s body jerked beneath his ministrations, seemingly out of her control. Her breathing sped, and she grasped desperately at the bedsheets for some kind of purchase. He sucked her into his mouth and her back arched completely off the bed, moaning loudly.

“Anders,” she breathed. “I’m so close -”

“Come for me,” he told her, and she did. Her muscles tightened, freezing her in place as she reached her peak, then shaking in pleasure as she tumbled over it.

Anders trailed his hand down her body, rubbing small soothing circles across her skin as his other hand slowed to a halt inside her, guiding her down from her pleasure. When she finally felt like she had control of her muscles again, she smiled up at him, raising a hand to clasp the back of his neck and pull his lips down to hers.

He kissed her slowly, languidly, but Hawke could feel the tension in his body as he held her close. This time when she reached for the ties of his trousers, he did not pull her hands away.

He groaned softly against her lips when her fingers found him, and helped her push his trousers down his body. He kicked off his pants and boots as Hawke trailed her fingertips along his cock, then moved to hover over her. Her grip around him tightened, and she loved the way his body tensed above her. 

Their lips met again, and when he kissed her, she thought she could live this moment forever and never want for anything again. He threaded his fingers through her hair, cradling her cheek with his palm, and ran his other hand down the curves of her waist to rest on her hip.

She sped the movements of her hand, up and down his cock, and he tightened his grip on her, fingertips digging into her flesh.

“Love,” he breathed against her lips. “Stop, I don’t want -”

She removed her hand immediately, and Anders stayed still above her, slowly regaining control of his breathing. Finally, he leaned back, staring down at her, and Hawke’s stomach tightened at the now familiar glint in his eye.

“We aren’t done yet,” he told her, and placed both hands on her hips. He leaned down again to kiss her hard, then pulled away and guided her to lay on her stomach. He lifted up, pulling her hips into the air, and planted kisses up her spine, caressing her lower back as he went.

Hawke writhed beneath him, already aching for more, and he chuckled against her skin. He straightened his back, and she felt his cock pressing against her. She pushed back, but he moved with her, refusing to enter her yet.

“Patience,” he reprimanded. “Some things should be savored.”

His hands drifted lower, pressing her thighs together. One hand returned to her hip, keeping a firm grip to prevent her from moving, and the other guided his erection between her legs, just below her sex. Hawke’s skin was wet from want and from Anders’ earlier ministrations, and he slipped between her thighs with ease.

Anders moaned and leaned over her, teeth grazing along her shoulder blade. He moved slowly, his cock sliding against her sex with each thrust, and Hawke gasped at the sensation. She found herself pressing back into him for more contact, and moved one hand down to caress the tip of him with each thrust.

Anders’ breath caught on another moan, and his body jerked, disrupting the steady rhythm he’d set. He bit down softly where her neck met her shoulders, and this time when he pulled back, he angled himself upward. His next thrust entered her, and Hawke couldn’t stop the loud moan that escaped her lips.

He started slow, but with each sound of pleasure he drew from Hawke’s throat, his movements sped. Soon he was pounding into her, hitting that spot that blurred the line between pain and pleasure, leaving her scrambling for purchase to brace herself against him. 

His hands were around her waist, pulling her back into him with each snap of his hips, and every movement he made drew another ragged moan from her. She pressed her body down into her mattress, pushing her hips higher, changing the angle slightly so it was _just right_ , and then she could hardly breathe.

She’d never felt anything this good in her life, and Anders was trailing one hand up her spine, lighting up her skin with sparks of electricity and leaving her shivering. Her skin felt like it was on fire with the way she was burning for his touch, and he seemed to know just what she wanted. His hand drifted around her body, down her navel to settle in her groin. He found her clit after another moment, and Hawke was no longer moaning. She was screaming.

His free hand moved up to caress her breast, and then it was suddenly too much. She was floating, falling, her muscles no longer responding to her commands. Anders never slowed his movements, kept pushing her, and just when she thought the feeling had finally passed, another wave of pleasure crashed over her and she was lost again. 

What felt like an eternity of bliss later, Anders stiffened behind her, breath catching in a groan, and collapsed to the bed next to her. 

Hawke turned her head towards him as she fought to catch her breath, and he beamed at her. His hair was messed, and stuck to his face. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips were parted as he too tried to slow his breathing. Hawke thought he’d never looked more beautiful, and she’d never loved him more.

She didn’t know how to tell him so, and instead, settled for a chaste kiss, soft and sweet. When she pulled away, his eyes were soft, and she knew he understood.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close against him. Hawke listened to the steady sound of his breathing, felt his heart beating in his chest, pressed against her back, and she squirmed deeper into his embrace. She was perfectly content, and when exhaustion took her, she didn’t try to fight it.

~~~

Hawke awoke to a sharp knocking on her chamber door, and would have been quite put out if it were not for the mage still tangled in her bedsheets, happily sleeping next to her. She could get over the rude awakening if her reward was the sight of Anders snoozing peacefully beside her.

“Mistress,” Bodahn called through the door. “Sorry to disturb you, but this seems rather important.”

Hawke sighed, and pulled herself out of the bed as Anders began to stir. “Just a moment, Bodahn,” she replied, gathering up her robes and dressing quickly.

She pulled open the door a crack, careful not to reveal Anders’ presence in her room in case her servant was not the only one outside. “What is it?”

“Lady Aveline and Lady Isabela are downstairs arguing about something, and it would appear that there is some sort of dire situation in need of your immediate attention.”

Hawke sighed. “When is there not? Alright, give me a moment to get properly dressed, and I’ll be down to deal with them. Thank you, Bodahn.”

The dwarf bowed and excused himself to head back downstairs, and Hawke shut the door gently behind her.

She turned to find Anders sitting up in her bed, rubbing his eye and smiling drowsily at her.

“Good morning, you,” she grinned, and joined him in bed to plant a soft kiss against his lips.

“Good morning,” he replied, stiffling a yawn.

“Thank you for last night,” she whispered, trailing soft kisses down his neck.

“Mm, my pleasure,” he sighed, wrapping his arms around her.

They held each other close for a long moment, until Hawke interrupted. “Bodahn needs me downstairs. Isabela and Aveline are bickering again, but apparently it’s important this time.”

“I heard. Do you want me to come down with you, or should I wait and head back to Darktown when they leave?” She pulled back to look at him, and his expression was soft, concerned. He was giving her an out, an easy way to keep from revealing their relationship to her friends just yet, and he didn’t seem upset by the idea.

Hawke chewed her lip, taking a moment to consider the options. She didn’t want to hide their relationship. Although there was still the matter of her technically being in another relationship already. She didn’t think Isabela or Aveline - or any of her friends, really - would be distressed by the news. And she was planning on ending things with Cullen as soon as possible. _Today,_ she told herself. _You have to do it today._

“Come down with me,” she replied, and gave Anders another light kiss. Anders smiled at her warmly, and her heart melted. She watched him fondly as he dressed, and knew that no matter what happened, she’d never been happier.

~~~

Mere hours later, Hawke was fighting her way through Qunari soldiers to the Viscount's Keep, cursing Isabela and Aveline and the Qunari and the Viscount and the entire population of Kirkwall. The peace of her bedroom this morning seemed a distant memory. Hawke wondered how this day could possibly get any worse, and immediately wished she hadn’t when she finally burst into the Viscount's throne room.

She took a deep breath to ready herself before confronting the Arishok, and felt a wave of rejuvenating energy wash over her just before she stepped forward. She silently sent her thanks to Anders, who hovered warily behind her with Varric and Aveline, and squared her shoulders to confront the towering man before her.

Despite their disagreements, she had at least built a relationship based on mutual respect with the Arishok. But to her dismay, she found that relationship would not be enough. The Arishok would not back down, and even the surprising arrival of Isabela and the return of the tome could not save her from this fight, because Hawke could not betray her friend.

Marian spared a glance at Anders, whose face was lined with concern. When their eyes met, his features hardened to fierce determination. He nodded at her, and Hawke felt the nerves draining away. She could survive this fight, she knew as she turned back to face the Arishok. She had to.

~~~

Cullen’s lungs burned as he ran to the Viscount’s Keep, heavy armor weighing him down. But he didn’t dare remove it. Qunari soldiers still patrolled the streets, and he needed all the protection he could get.

He’d been on duty in the Gallows when the Qunari uprising began, and it had taken him far too long to even fight his way this far into the city. He’d heard rumors that a resident of Hightown - the same one who’d bought herself the old Amell place after an especially fruitful trip into the Deep Roads - had gone to the Keep to take on the Arishok herself, and he knew Hawke must be fighting for her life this very moment. He cursed himself for not being faster, and pushed his legs to carry him up the steps to the Keep as quickly as they could move. 

He burst into the Viscount’s throne room just in time to watch a huge Qunari warrior drive a hard blow through Hawke’s abdomen with a colossal sword, throwing her across the room. She hit the ground hard and struggled to prop herself up, blood seeping from the wound and spreading across the floor beneath her. The Qunari advanced, looking triumphant, and raised his sword, ready to deal the final blow.

Hawke’s face contorted with rage and determination, and she let loose a mighty cry, raising her arms and summoning a wall of ice around her. Wait, what? Hawke was a _mage_?

The Qunari hesitated, but it was too late. Hawke swung her arms forward and the ice followed, deadly sharp icicles flying towards the Qunari, who had no time or way to avoid them. When Hawke’s arms fell back to her sides, the Qunari swayed on his feet, icy blades sticking out of his body in numerous places. He collapsed to his knees as Hawke collapsed on the floor. 

A pained scream echoed through the chamber, and Cullen turned to find the source was one of Hawke’s companions - the known apostate from Darktown - who’d fallen to the floor, screaming for Hawke and trying to crawl to her, but held back by a Guardsman and a dwarf.

Cullen turned back to Hawke, saw her holding tightly to her wound. The Qunari finally fell to the ground, and made no movements. The room was still, everyone in attendance holding their breath, waiting to see what came next.

To Cullen’s surprise and relief, he saw the rest of the Qunari stand down, lowering their weapons, and walking towards him, out of the throne room. He saw people celebrating, but his attention was back on Hawke, who lay still, bleeding out on the ground on the other side of the room. He rushed towards her through the crowd of noblemen and women rushing out of the room, but someone else reached her side first. 

The apostate fell to the ground beside her, knees smearing through the ever-growing puddle of blood. “Don’t be dead, _please_ ,” he cried, voice breaking, and placed his hands over her wound.

Cullen saw the familiar glow of healing magic, and stopped in his tracks. Maybe the apostate could save her.

Long moments passed in silence, the few remaining in the room watching the same scene with bated breath. Finally, Hawke gasped for breath, coughing and moaning in pain when she moved, and Cullen exhaled in relief. Hawke was alive, she was going to be okay. He didn’t know what to think about the new knowledge that she was a mage, but that could come later. He strode forward, intending to thank the apostate and ignore the public display of magic in exchange for saving Hawke. But something in the apostate’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Thank the Maker,” Cullen heard the apostate saying. His voice was wavering with nerves. “I thought you were… I thought you’d - “

Hawke didn’t speak, but smiled at him, and raised her hand to caress his cheek. He brought his hands up to grasp hers.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” the apostate continued. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”

Hawke whispered something too faint for Cullen to hear, and the apostate laughed, a broken, nervous sound. Then he pulled her hand to his lips, and Cullen couldn’t watch anymore. He turned on his heel and stormed out, conflicting thoughts and emotions storming in his mind. 

In the room behind him, Hawke turned at the sound of heavy armor clanking against the stone floor, and caught a glimpse of Cullen’s back as he retreated. The smile fell from her face. _Maker, how much did he see?_ she wondered, but knew that he’d seen enough.

Aveline followed Hawke’s gaze, saw the Templar armor slipping through the doorway, and turned back to her friend. “Would you like me to follow him?” she asked.

Hawke shook her head weakly. “No, I should be the one to…” She trailed off, not sure what she was going to do, but knowing that that confrontation, just like the fight she’d just survived, was one she’d have to do alone.


	4. Part Four

Anders’ magic had saved Hawke from certain death, but it hadn’t quite saved her from a tedious recovery. Not that Anders helped.

Hawke couldn’t exactly blame him - she knew how close she’d come to death, how scared he’d been for her. And at first, she had thoroughly enjoyed the attention Anders lavished on her. But after the third day in bed, she became more than a bit restless.

“Anders, really, I’m fine now,” she argued, sitting up in bed and hopefully masking the pain that flared every time she tensed the muscles of her stomach.

Anders gave her a look that told her that he didn’t believe her for a moment, but then his features relaxed, and he sighed gently. “I suppose I’ve kept you cooped up long enough. Just - don’t do anything recklessly dangerous for a few more days, for me?”

Hawke smiled, and motioned for him to come closer. “No promises, but I’ll try,” she told him, and kissed him softly.

After much urging and reassuring on Hawke’s part, Anders was finally convinced that his patients in Darktown needed him more than Hawke did, and with many more warnings, Anders finally took his leave. He promised to return to her in the evening, and Hawke didn’t doubt him. In fact, she was counting on his comfort after what she had planned today.

Cullen had not come to see her, nor had he sent her a letter, or any kind of message. Hawke had considered leaving him be, but she couldn’t bring herself to end things that way.

She winced in pain as she dressed herself, and steeled her resolve, trying to ignore her growing sense of dread.

~~~

Cullen spotted her when she arrived at the Gallows, but pointedly turned away from her. Hawke could see the anger in his stance, even from a distance, and braced herself for what she knew would be an unpleasant confrontation.

“You should not be here, Hawke,” Cullen told her sharply when she approached, not bothering to spare a glance her way. “The Gallows is not a safe place for an apostate.”

The last word sounded like a curse on his breath, and Hawke could hear the pain in his voice. 

“Are you going to arrest me?” she asked, and now he turned to look at her.

“You’re the Champion of Kirkwall now. Even the Knight Commander wouldn’t risk locking away a Champion, not so soon anyway. Not while she’s still in the public’s good graces.” He turned away from her again, bitterness dripping from his voice. “The Champion’s _friends_ would do well to tread lightly, however. They may not be afforded the same considerations.”

Hawke’s face flushed with anger, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from snapping at him. She knew he was threatening Anders, and her first instinct was to crush that threat where it stood. But she knew she had to tread lightly, or risk endangering not only herself, but Anders as well.

“I came to apologize to you,” she said after a long moment of silence.

“Ha!” Cullen replied coldly. “I don’t want to hear it. I know what happened. I have no care to hear your petty excuses.”

Hawke fought down a biting reply, reminded herself that he was hurting, and that was her fault, and drew a deep breath before continuing. “I know I hurt you, and I’m so sorry for that. I never wanted to. You’re a good man, and you deserve better.”

“Are you trying to make me feel better? If you are, you’re doing a piss poor job. At least do me the courtesy of being honest.”

Hawke furrowed her brows. “I am being -”

“You were just using me to get information, weren’t you?” he spat venomously. “We know there’s a group smuggling mages out of the Circle. You two are part of it, aren’t you? You and that Darktown healer. You were manipulating me in an attempt to smuggle information to him, admit it.”

“What? I didn’t,” Hawke struggled to find words. “I wasn’t -”

“Save it,” he sneered. “You mages are all alike. Liars and manipulators, always ready to seize power where ever you can, never caring who you hurt.”

“I’m not - “

“You will never get a single mage out of the Gallows again,” he hissed. “I will personally make sure of that.”

Hawke opened her mouth to retort, but thought better of it. Some battles were lost before they were begun, she knew, and a good warrior knew when to cut their losses. She had done this to him, turned a man who looked at her with care in his eyes to a furious creature that cursed her name. It was her fault, she knew, and nothing could be done about it now.

“You should leave now,” he warned. “Before I change my mind about arresting you.”

“I am truly sorry for all I’ve done to hurt you,” she told him again, hoping one day he’d believe it, and turned to leave.

“Farewell, _Champion_ ,” he spat as she walked away, and Hawke did not reply or look back.

~~~

When Anders returned to her estate that evening, he found Hawke curled in on herself in front of the fire in her bedroom. He leaned his staff against the wall and took a seat beside her. After a long moment of silence, he spoke.

“Did you talk to him today?” he asked gently.

Hawke nodded.

“Would you like to talk about it?”

Hawke looked down from the fire, at her hands in her lap. She didn’t really want to speak the things Cullen had said. She knew he had every right to be angry, and it was entirely her fault. She didn’t want Anders to try to make her feel better about it. She deserved to feel terrible. She -

A hand was rubbing gentle circles on her lower back, sending a small wave of calming magic through her body. It didn’t alleviate her guilt, but it did help to clear her mind, and she was grateful.

She looked up at Anders, who was staring down at her with concern, and she knew she had to tell him at least one thing.

“Cullen thought I was with him to gather information for the mage underground. He said he would personally ensure that they never free another mage.”

Anders’ face fell at first, then took on a look fierce determination. “I’d like to see him try.”

“Let me help you.”

“Hawke, I’ve told you, it’s too dangerous. I don’t want you getting -”

“I’m already involved, and I do dangerous things for a living. It’s my fault things are going to get worse for you. Let me do something to right my wrongs.”

Anders considered for a long moment, but finally, he nodded. “Alright. If you’re sure. I’ll introduce you to someone tomorrow.”

Hawke smiled weakly, and turned back to the fire. She doubted if she would ever stop feeling guilty about hurting Cullen, but at least she could do something to make up for her foolishness.

Anders reached over to grasp her hand and pulled it to his lips. He kissed her softly, on the back of her hand, and she turned her head to face him. His eyes looked beautiful in the firelight, that warm honey brown, staring into her, through her. And despite her sorrow, Hawke felt her heart swelling with love.

“Come to bed,” Anders asked, standing beside her. He still held her hand in one of his, and his other reached out, waiting for her to take it.

Hawke looked up at him, at that beautiful face staring down at her, the love and adoration he felt so apparent in his features, and she felt tears brimming in her eyes. She doubted if she would ever stop being grateful for this man, his love, his presence in her life.

She reached out and took his hand, and he pulled her upright and into his arms. She buried her face in his chest, breathing deep his scent, and knew she was home.

Anders pulled away from her, moving to sit on her bed, and inclined his head, motioning for her to join him. She could deny him nothing, and did.


End file.
